


Gilded Badlands

by sulisaints



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Old Vegas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17916683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulisaints/pseuds/sulisaints
Summary: 1940′s Las Vegas is dominated by the gangs that run the town. Kaz Brekker and his crew have taken on a simple job with a suspiciously high payout. When an old face turns up on Fremont Street, can the Dregs keep it together to get their money?





	1. Prologue

A man strolled confidently along a crowded street. The pavement under his feet shone wet from the heat in the dark of the night. All around him revelers drank to health, to luck, and to the city itself: Las Vegas. What was in style had changed in the many years he had been away. As a child, the slim figures of the 1930’s had dominated. A decade later, he was surprised to see flowing skirts and trousers on the women. However, what hadn’t changed was the city’s thirst for money and those who came to make it big. 

The casinos seemed bigger around Fremont Street, but the man was only interested in one. A dark building stretched skyward with a neon sign proclaiming its name: the Crow Club. Through the glass doors, the man could see the cocktail waitresses circling slot machines and tables bedecked in red and black. It was tempting to step inside and see what lay within, but he refrained. This was meant to be a reconnaissance mission. It wouldn’t do to tip his hand just yet. 

Closer to the lights and hubbub of downtown lay another casino of interest. The Emerald Palace shone like a beacon in startling green and gold. This one the man felt free to enter. He wanted to get a lay of the land, so to speak. The casino had been updated in his absence and learning the nooks and crannies would be vital to his job. It had a more expensive feel to it than some of the newer constructions. In a place where novelty was king and anything old was immediately demolished, there was an opulence that suggested a secure establishment here. The man allowed himself a loop around the casino floor and eyed the patrons that sat at the tables. He wondered how many of them were gambling away Junior’s college fund or their retirement plan. If any of them knew the true feel of want, they would pick themselves up immediately and head home to their secure lives. Telling them all of this would be useless and the man had no intention of shouting at brick walls that evening. They would go home to the missus, let her kiss them on the cheek, and lie how just how terrible they had done at the tables. There would be no mention of the girl who had dazzled their pocket watch away. Their life of bland potatoes and children underfoot would continue on, as if Las Vegas had been nothing more than a dream. 

In some aspects, the city was a fantasy to some. It offered refuge to those struggling to survive. There was always a job that needed to be done and coin to be made beneath the glamour. The man thought about the hidden Grisha in the city. Certainly, many feats of engineering and beautification were accomplished by their hands. While they did not practice openly in the world, many had found it a profitable career to work in secret. Many of the dancers within the shows were far too symmetrical and perfect to be just the result of good breeding. Yes, the Emerald Palace had used Grisha power to construct a monstrosity of steel and glass. The man bit back a sneer at how well Pekka Rollins had done for himself and exited before he could do something that would gain him a lecture.

Back on the street, his companion joined him silently. It was her way: appear within the space of a second and disappear just as quick. She said nothing as they made their way to their lodging for the evening. The Plaza’s glimmering lights invited them inside and the pair approached the front desk. The man smiled as the attendant passed him a room key.

“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Rietveld.”

Yes, it was good to be home.


	2. Kaz

The tinkling of the machines declaring another winner ricocheted through his head even outside of the casinos. Over and over, the cheerful tones played. In the dead of night, it sometimes pulled him from dreams. Nina would call it the result of spending the majority of his time on the casino floor. Inej would say something depressing about luck and fools. He wouldn’t have asked for either of their opinions. 

Kaz Brekker looked out over the floor of the Crow Club, a casino just off the main path of Fremont Street. It was done up tastefully in dark reds and greys, with no windows to give an inclination of time passing. He had been involved in every step of its construction. The height of the chairs at the tables were done just so. The sconces and chandeliers were lit dimly enough to suggest clandestine activities. Interlocking patterns of crows taking flight spread across the carpet. The red velvet of the walls were picked from dozens of samples of fabric. He had even commissioned an artisan in Los Angeles to construct the columns lining the walls. It was Kaz’s work of art, not Per Haskell’s, no matter how much the old man claimed otherwise. 

Inej appeared next to him on the balcony. The Wraith had been watching from behind him for the last quarter hour, but had apparently found something to say.

“The Razorgulls seem particularly riled about something tonight. I caught their lieutenant mouthing off about a payday inside the El Cortez,” she said without preamble. 

“As if André could find his way out of a wet paper bag with a map,” Kaz snorted. Inej shot him a censorious look. 

“Regardless of your assumptions of his intellectual capability, there’s a threat.” Even in her ire, she took Kaz’s proffered arm as they left the balcony. Manners, even in a den of vices, were important. 

“I never said there wasn’t. A stupid man is far more dangerous than an intelligent one. Harder to predict. A smart man will take the most logical path,” he said. The cane in his hand did nothing to interfere with the pace at which they moved down the stairs. 

“Your words of wisdom are always so comforting,” Inej snapped. “I’ll be sure to remember them when I’m pulling bullets out of my side.” 

The arm that held Inej’s hand tightened for the briefest moment. The image of the Wraith covered in her own blood for once, sprawled on the floor of an alley suddenly slipped into his mind with the force of a battering ram. His cane clanked, louder than usual, on the last stair. His minor slip was not noticed by the patrons or employees on the floor, but Inej missed nothing. 

Her raised eyebrow went unanswered as he deposited her at her favored bar stool. Inej didn’t drink and would send back every ridiculous cocktail sent her way. Kaz knew she sat there to observe. She could see every entrance open to the public from this point, as well as the guarded door leading to the back room the Dregs took their meetings in. Dirix, the bartender, kept the seat open, claiming it was reserved for a high roller. Inej had never placed a bet in her life. 

“What has brought out your scheming face, Kaz? You look like a kid on Christmas Eve,” she commented as he waved a hand for Dirix to bring her a glass of water. Kaz leaned against the bar, surveying the pigeons in the trap rather than look at her. 

“Got a job for us. Need to round up a few more people for the rest of the crew, but the payday should be… It’ll change everything, Inej.” Satisfied Dirix had come to keep an eye on the Wraith, not that she needed minding, Kaz turned to depart. “I’ll leave you to your perch, Wraith, but keep an eye out for Jesper. He should be back from the Frontier Club within the hour.”

Inej let him walk a few steps away before calling his name. He turned to look at her. He was distracted by the figure she cut in the smoky club. The high-waisted trousers she wore seemed to stretch her legs into something bordering on obscene. She exuded a quiet confidence that seemed to say, _I belong right here_ , without venturing towards arrogance. The coil of her dark hair at the back of her head hid nothing of the stern expression on her face. Inej usually favored austerity when dealing with Kaz and he found her frown comforting. 

“If I’m left waiting for that man to pull himself away from a table all night, I’m blaming you,” she declared before turning her back to watch the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter lengths will get longer after this one.  
> I'm curious, who do you think was in the prologue? I'd love to hear any guesses that I may or may not confirm!


	3. Nina

It was nights like these that made Nina question why she stayed in Las Vegas. She could find her way back to Russia and resume the life she had once had. She could throw herself headfirst into Europe and allow herself to enjoy the postwar joviality that had embraced the world. Instead, she was resting her fingers against the greasy temples of a man in the backroom of a gentlemen’s club. She could sense the tension in him without even using the Small Science. It was understandable; the atmosphere of the club always made a certain type of man feel small. It helped influence them to spend more money on the girls to feel larger. 

“Like Mr. Bogart in _Casablanca_ , ma’am,” the earnest, but oily man said. He was adorable in a pigeon way, but unoriginal. Nina knew every inch of his story before he had opened his mouth. He had hit a winning streak and heard of “the dame in the Rose” who could change his fortune with the ladies. Nina saw about five of these men a week. They were looser with their money than they should be and would go home with nothing by the end of the end of their stay. 

Humphrey Bogart he was not. But, Nina came to Vegas for the waters, so she could allow him this daydream. 

She couldn’t do anything about the shine of his hair, but she could define his jaw and pull away the pockmarks from his face. A thick band of tissue stretched from below his cheekbone to reach just shy of his nose. The off-putting scar smoothed back into his skin until it was barely visible, but was still discernible. Nina excelled at most things, but could admit to herself that Tailoring had never been one of her strongest points. 

Once she was finished, the scuffed mine worker sitting in her room did seem a changed man. The childlike glimmer in his eyes was still present, but he was imbued with more confidence. He thanked her profusely and left a stack of bills on her table. Promises were made to see her in a few days to upkeep the work, but Nina knew he would be destitute before the Tailoring faded. 

Nina left the gaudy room not long after her client. It was creeping up on late, though the term had a different meaning in this city. The sun was a few hours from rising over the mountains bordering the valley, but she had more work to accomplish before she could slip into sleep. 

The White Rose was one of the more respected gentlemen’s clubs in town. She could walk freely through the halls and downstairs dance area without anticipating anyone grabbing her. Not that they would get far before Nina crushed their windpipe, but the safety was novel. Nina slipped out of a side door leading to an alley. The stifling heat, even in the dead of night, pushed at her face like an oven door opening. Still, she pulled a thin black scarf over her hair and allowed her face to be cast in shadow. No matter the safety she found at the club or the retribution promised by the Dregs should harm come to her, it was dangerous to parade down Fremont with the rumors of the Witch in the Rose swirling about. 

Nina slipped down the busy street taking no notice of the cacophony that surrounded her. Hawkers called out to passersby, eager to pull in a few more tourists. Shrieking laughter from groups of girls in heels that didn’t fit echoed off the brick of the buildings. Horns honked as cars swerved around pigeons too stupid or too drunk to realize they had wandered into the street. Music layered disastrously from every club, creating white noise in the volume. Nina edged around shouting couples, lost tourists, and rough-looking cops. Business as usual on Fremont.The crowd was diminished from what it had been hours ago, but there was always someone looking for that next rush. She ignored the shouting and music to step to a discrete door against a black wall. Nina rapped her knuckles in a precise rhythm tap tap-tap, tap tap-tap-tap. The bulbous eyes of Bolliger peered out at her from the hidden slot in the door. 

“ _I am all in a sea of wonders_ ,” Nina said to his threatening stare. Leave it to Kaz Brekker to use a line from some dramatic horror story as a passphrase. 

The door swung open and Nina stepped into the member’s only area of the Crow Club. A ragtag group waited for her in the appointed meeting room. Kaz Brekker leaned against the wall, cane in hand. He looked like the villain of every childhood fairytale come to life: sharp lines, dark eyes, and a mask of a face. In contrast, Wylan van Eck sitting stiffly on the sofa could be the hero. His boyish curls and full cheeks looked at odds with the other killers and thieves in the room. Nina, however, knew Wylan was not as angelic as he appeared. You only need to watch someone pour a poison into a cocktail that will cause the drinker’s blood to clot in their veins once before you learned how dangerous they were. Jesper Fahey sprawled across the couch with one of his pistols in hand, seeming almost liquid in his comfort. A quick tap on her shoulder revealed the final player in this meeting. Inej Ghafa slipped past Nina with a small smile. The tiny girl was one of Nina’s only friends and having her here brought a relief she was unable to fully comprehend. Nina sank into a loveseat next to Inej and looked expectantly at Kaz.

“Now that everyone’s here, we can address tonight’s business,” he began, rapping his cane against the floor. Nina resisted rolling her eyes at his dramatics. “I’ve been contacted about a job. Namely, a recovery.” 

Jesper sat upright and shot Kaz a curious look. “A recovery? Why not let the enforcers handle that? You don’t need us to track down someone who’s skipped out on their debt.” 

Nina noticed that the entire group seemed a little hesitant, aside from Inej. She probably knew more about what was going on in that black hole Kaz called a brain than any of them. It amused Nina to watch the pair of them dance about, or circle like wolves as Jesper referred to it one time. She was both curious and mildly afraid of what would happen if one of them stopped flinching.

“This isn’t a normal recovery,” Kaz said, patient. “We’ve been offered a very generous paycheck for our services, should we send this man back to where he needs to be.” 

Nina narrowed her eyes. “How generous?”

“3 million dollars.” 

“Bullshit, Kaz. No one is just going to hand over that kind of scrub for one man,” Jesper drawled. Wylan had paled in his seat.

“Even after Per Haskell gets his cut, that’s still $480,000 for each of us,” he said incredulously, staring at Kaz.

Jesper shot Wylan a quick wink. “I love it when you do complex math in your head.” 

“It’s not complex,” Wylan protested with a blush. “Just divide three--” 

Kaz rapped his cane on the ground like a judge attempting to bring a court to order. “Divided six ways, Wylan. $400,000 for each of us.” 

Nina sat ramrod straight in her seat. There was a gleam in Kaz’s eyes she didn’t like the look of. It promised nothing but trouble and misery. He glanced at Nina’s clenched hands and raised a brow. 

“I thought this is what you wanted, Zenik?” he asked, his voice betraying no fear at the Heartrender glaring at him murderously.

“Are you telling me that he didn’t have to sit there this whole time?” Her fingers twitched and she had to repress the idea of sealing his windpipe. Knowing Kaz, he had found a way to breathe without it just to spite her. 

“He’s fine where he is, Nina. It’s not as if they’re beating him or mistreating him. There hasn’t been a good enough reason to burn the bridges and spend the money it’s going to take to get Helvar out of prison.” Nina started to protest and he held up a gloved hand. 

“A good enough reason for me,” he added. “I don’t run a charity nor am I in the business of cleaning up other people’s problems.” 

Inej lay a cool palm on Nina’s tight fist. Her gentle touch seemed to pull the homicidal thoughts right out of Nina, but the fury remained. “Nevermind that breaking into NSP is supposed to be… difficult, but what prisoner is needed for this job?” she asked after Nina had swallowed the hateful words attempting to push their way out. 

“One Matthias Helvar,” Kaz said, pushing his hair away from his face. Nina had the unkind thought that if he stopped fussing with it, maybe his stupid haircut wouldn’t look so bad. “A German soldier locked in Nevada State Prison. We’ll need him to round out this crew.” 

“And what did this man do to get himself locked in Hellgate?” Jesper inquired. “You don’t usually find altar boys and saints up there.” 

Nina’s eyes flashed as she focused on Jesper. “Nothing. He did nothing. He has more heart than everyone in this room combined.” 

“Yourself included?” Kaz asked. He pointed the end of his cane at her. “You’re the one who got him put away, Zenik. When listing his virtues, try to remember why he’s in this mess.” 

As Nina lifted her hands from her lap, intent on giving the man a nosebleed to mess up his nice shirt, Wylan cleared his throat. “How are we supposed to break a man out of NSP? No one has managed to escape since Tom Shelby twenty years ago.” 

Kaz gave Wylan a chilling grin. “Leave that to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and coming along on this monster with me! Here is a longer chapter, as promised, and it's the last one I have prewritten. I should have the next one done by Friday, so expect it before the weekend is over.


	4. Wylan

Wylan had been on many trains with his father when he had been small. They were a luxurious way to travel, full of white-gloved attendants and plush seats. This expedition was nothing like the ones of his childhood. They had been aboard three minutes and Nina already looked like she was itching to scalp someone.

“If another man so much as glances my way, I may cause a scene,” she muttered darkly to Inej and fisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt. Wylan averted his eyes and scooted closer to Jesper on the bench just in case. They were seated across from the girls in third-class, though Kaz had long disappeared to do who knows what. The benches were uncomfortable and it was going to take hours for them to reach Carson City. Wylan’s body ached at the thought of spending even another moment on the unforgiving wood. 

Though it was daylight, the scenery had no hope of holding Wylan’s interest. Flat desert pocked by spiny shrubbery and bordered by exhausted mountains paled in comparison to the fidgeting sharpshooter next to him. Jesper was humming some ridiculous showtune under his breath. If the conductor could hear him, he would probably weep in agony. As it was, Wylan winced as Jesper hit a particularly painful off-key highnote. Inej looked at the pinched expression on his face and tapped Jesper with the toe of her boot. 

“Knock it off before you give Wylan a headache,” she said. 

“I’ll have you know I have been told I sound like an angelic choir boy, Wraith. Just because your ears aren’t refined enough to appreciate it, doesn’t mean I sound terrible,” Jesper shot back.

“Funny, I’ve never met a choir boy who likes to lose all his money at roulette and fall into bed with the first person who makes eyes at them,” Nina snorted, pulling herself from her sullen introspection. Jesper stuck his tongue out at her. A woman down the bench gasped, horrified. In the spirit of mischief, he slowly looked her up and down and sent her a lascivious wink. The crone clutched at her shawl and moved further up the train car. Inej sighed.

“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, you two. Knock it off before Kaz comes back,” she said. 

“Oooh should I be afraid that Dad’s going to come and put me in time out?” Jesper asked as he leaned back on the bench and stretched his legs out. 

“I’ll do worse if you don’t put a sock in it,” a sudden voice muttered. The group turned to see Kaz occupying the space the scandalized woman had been sitting in. Wylan jumped and fell into Jesper.

“If you’re going to sit on my lap, kid, at least try not to land so hard,” the sharpshooter drawled and Wylan’s cheeks flared brighter than Nina’s lipstick. He scrambled off of Jesper as the rest of the group, sans Kaz, shared a quiet laugh at his expense. 

Kaz shot them all a threatening look and the remaining few hours were spent in silence as they sped toward the capital. Wylan focused on not focusing on the man sitting beside him and tried to gauge the atmosphere of the group. Inej seemed to be mouthing prayers, rubbing her fingers together as if running them against the handles of her knives. Nina flexed her wrists repeatedly and had resumed her stoic staring out of the window. Even Kaz was tapping his cane against the floor of the train cart lightly and had narrowed his eyes at a spot in the distance. 

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured as the train pulled into Carson City. Jesper shot her a wide grin. 

“Dirtyhands sure is up to something,” he replied, shouldering one of the few bags Kaz had allowed them to bring. “I wonder if--” 

A sharp rap of a cane against his shin kept Jesper from saying anything more. 

“We’re heading straight to the Bank Saloon. I’ve made us a reservation so we can regroup and plan before heading out tomorrow night. The owner said it isn’t too far from the train station,” Kaz said. 

“The Bank Saloon? God help you, Kaz, if you booked some fleabag place for us to sleep in tonight, I’m shaving your head,” Nina snarled. He glared at her, reaching a gloved hand to his hair. 

“It is the midway point between the train station and the road to the prison,” Kaz snapped. “It’s for a single night, Zenik. Try not to go into hysterics. Apologies that Carson City doesn’t have the featherdown pillows a girl of your calibre is used to.” 

A crumpled brochure of the sights of the town bounced off his head in reply before hitting the dusty floor.

\---

Kaz had booked three rooms in a dumpy motor hotel. Carson City, while not much to look at, had plenty of frightening places one could sleep in if desperate. The dusty brick building looked ancient, though little in this town had existed for more than 100 years. After checking in with a leathery woman, room assignments had been given out: Nina and Inej in one; Kaz on his lonesome; and Jesper and Wylan taking the final room. They convened in Jesper and Wylan’s room to hear Kaz’s plan. 

As the door creaked open, Jesper winked at Wylan and told him he’d better not hog all the covers.

“Wh-what do you mean? We have separate beds, right?” he managed to stutter out. An echo of laughter from the rest of the group followed the pair into the room. With a solitary double bed. 

The room was nothing to write home about, not that Wylan intended on telling his father about his...adventures. Or that he had the capability to put pen to paper and make words form into something resembling a letter. And where was home at this point anyway? The large house on the outskirts of town that his father lived in with Wylan’s new _step-mother_? Where his mother once lived? Was it the dingy squat a few blocks from the Crow Club, lovingly referred to as “the Slat” by its residents? Truthfully, Wylan wasn’t sure. He felt adrift in a town he knew like the back of his hand. Or so he had thought. His education with the Dregs was proving that Las Vegas was not the city he once thought it was.

Nina bounced onto the bed to sit at the head with Inej crawling in beside her. In the cramped room, there was little else place to sit. Kaz settled for leaning against what Wylan could only assume was meant to be a dresser, while Jesper allowed the bathroom door to hold him up. Thankfully, the girls had left space at the end of the bed for Wylan. 

“Tell us, O Masterful Leader, how we’re planning on sneaking into a high-security prison, stealing a prisoner, and then getting out without ending up in stripes ourselves?” Jesper asked.

Kaz paused for dramatic effect before pulling out papers from his coat. Spread out over the bedspread, they were recognizable as maps of both Carson City and the prison. Kaz pulled a fountain pen out of one of his endless pockets and pointed at the map detailing NSP.

“This is the vault we’re hitting tomorrow night,” he began. “Nevada State Prison is one of the most highly guarded in the country. For those of you unfortunate enough to not be from this paradise of a state, it was the first in the nation to carry out executions by gas chamber.”

Nina flinched, but Wylan wasn’t entirely sure why. Inej moved closer to the Russian girl and gestured for Kaz to continue his lecture. 

“We’ll go in with the night-shift cleaners. I have paperwork that will get us inside. Nina, Inej, and Wylan will follow this path.” He traced a line from the servant’s entrance to a cell block two floors above. “You’ll wait for me there.” 

Wylan shifted uncomfortably at the thought of sneaking into a high-security prison without Dirtyhands at their side. He noted the frown Jesper adopted; he didn’t look any happier than Wylan felt. He opened his mouth, but Kaz raised a hand. 

“From there, we’ll move to Helvar’s position here,” he continued, gesturing to a square marked with a red star. “He’ll be knocked out by Nina and secured in the underneath of a cleaning cart. We’ll exit here and leave in the van Jesper will be waiting with.” 

“I don’t like it,” said Jesper. Kaz raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to. This is the plan. I need you waiting with the car. There’s not going to be any shooting in the prison. I need Inej if we need further intel. I need Nina to knock Helvar out. A sharpshooter isn’t much use in a covert operation.” His voice was cold in the face of Jesper’s sulk.

“Then why do we need someone fluent in demo?” asked Nina. “I’m assuming there won’t be any need for blowing something up.” 

Wylan glanced down at the lines of the maps. Internally, he had been wondering the same thing. Kaz tossed him jobs occasionally, but he wasn’t the best demo man the Dregs had. His inclusion on jobs, especially on one being held as close to the chest as this one, often felt like a mistake. He was always waiting for someone to say, _hey, wait, why is this kid here?_ Wylan never integrated well into the rest of the gang. Kaz hadn’t even told him to go down to the tattoo parlour the others used to have the crow and cup inked into his arm. The fifteen-year old was beginning to wonder if he would ever fit in anywhere. If he couldn’t make it with this bunch of misfits and thieves, what hope was there for him for the rest of the world? 

Kaz and Inej shared a long look that was punctuated by the small girl furrowing her brows in discontent. 

“As the son of our employer, it seemed prudent for Wylan to be involved,” Kaz said finally. The effect on the room was palpable; Jesper stood up straighter against the wall as Nina’s mouth dropped open in surprise. 

“Jan Van Eck is the one who hired us for this job?” demanded Jesper. “Are you seriously telling me that a member of the City Council wants us to break a man out of prison and kidnap someone?” 

“My dad isn’t… He’s the straightest arrow I know. He hates the people downtown, especially the gangs,” Wylan interjected. _And he likes me even less._ “He wouldn’t mingle with us, nor would he ever hire a gang for any reason” 

Nina pinned Kaz with a hard look. “He’s right. That sounds outrageous. What is so special about this recovery, Kaz? Pull your cards from your chest a bit and tell us the whole truth or I’m out of here.”

“Helvar’s release isn’t enough for you? And I thought you were more loyal than that, Nina,” Kaz tsked. Inej clamped a hand down over Nina’s and sighed in frustration.

“Stop posturing, both of you. It’s getting late and we still need to drill the plans into our heads so tomorrow night goes off without a hitch,” she advised. “Kaz, on the way home, you need to tell us everything.”

Kaz’s face hardened at the order, but Inej’s irritation at the pair of them brokered no compromise. 

“Fine, let’s go over the route to and from the prison,” he said, rearranging the papers on the bed. 

Wylan traced the colored lines with his eyes that Kaz pointed out. Trying not to let the labels interact with his memorization proved difficult. The damn letters wouldn’t stop moving. Jesper broke him out of his frustrated trance with a nudge.

“Budge over, kid. As the driver of this job, I think I need to know where we’re going,” he drawled before throwing himself onto the bed next to Wylan. The invasion of his space brought vibrant blooms of red to his cheeks. 

The fifteen-year-old glanced up at Nina and Inej who seemed to be hiding laughter behind their hands, only deepening the mortifying blush. Wylan studied the lines and tried not to focus on the incredibly warm body next to him. After missing a full five minutes of Kaz explaining part of the plan, he gave it up as impossible. 

-  
They split up to get some rest. Kaz disappeared down the hall without a word.

“I wonder if he remembered to pack his coffin,” Nina said before the girls bid Wylan and Jesper goodnight. 

Back in their room, the bed still hadn’t magically duplicated itself, much to Wylan’s distress. 

Jesper cleared his throat. “I prefer the left side myself. I wasn’t kidding about the blankets, by the way. I get awfully cold at night.” Wylan nodded mutely. The bed looked far too small to hold both him and Jesper the giraffe. His cheeks flushed as he contemplated the various ways they could fit in that bed. 

“I’m going to wash some of that train dust off of me, so don’t spontaneously combust in my absence, kid. I wouldn’t want to miss that,” Jesper said before folding himself into the miniscule bathroom.

Wylan sat down on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands across his face. He was acting like an idiot. It was a single night. He could get through this without making a bigger fool of himself. All he had to do was act normal. Well, normal for him in the sharpshooter’s company. For all Jesper’s flirting, Wylan knew he didn’t actually mean it. It was like an aura of charisma that he couldn’t turn off. It tended to leak all over everything in his vicinity. Wylan was pretty sure he had seen flowers perk up in his presence as if he was the sun. It was a byproduct of being both pretty and charming: not intentional, and definitely not personal. Jesper would end up with some pretty showgirl and make stupidly pretty babies with stupidly pretty lives.

Determined to put a better face on, Wylan gathered his sleep clothes and toothbrush. As soon as Jesper came out, he was going to go in and then go to bed. The door opened and Wylan’s plan fell completely apart. 

Jesper Fahey stood backlit by steam wearing just a very small towel around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say the chapters would get longer, no? 
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who reads this. This is my first chaptered fic and I'm stunned and grateful that you nice people actually want to read the words I string together. Another massive thank you to moonlightmasquerade who has had her little hands all over this (and listened to me rant about plots that need revising). 
> 
> Anyone want to guess who the next POV is going to be? Expect the next chapter within a week!


	5. Inej

The roof hadn’t been hard to access. The window of her room with Nina offered a very wide ledge for Inej’s feet. Climbing the brick of the wall was no challenge for the Wraith. Though the day had been blisteringly hot, the night was almost cold without the sun. 

Inej rested against the parapet and looked to the empty street three floors below. Carson was unnerving in the quiet, especially compared to the hubbub of Fremont. No sirens pierced the air, no music spilled out of nightclubs. There was a peace in the darkness. She craned her head up to trace the stars. Her father had taught her how to connect the constellations and the stories they told.

_“Papa! Look! There’s Mama!” she had cried out as a little girl, pointing to a group of brilliant sapphires hanging overhead._

_“Is she there, Inej?” her father laughed. “I swore I just saw her making kutia over the fire. Now tell me why your mama is in the sky.”_

_“Mama’s name is Maia and you told me Maia is one of the seven sisters in the sky!” He picked her up and placed her on his hip._

_“Your mama did give us our own Hermes, so I guess you are right, little one.”_

Inej followed the stars until she found that same cluster of gems. The night was too bright in Vegas to see anything, but here she could feel her mother watching. Would she accept the things her daughter had done to survive? Or would she be horrified at the blood on her hands? Grief and shame overwhelmed Inej in the face of the Pleiades. She turned to face the other half of the sky and startled. Kaz leaned against the adjacent parapet. His head was framed by the constellation Corvus. Cloaked in the night and crowned by the stars, he looked like a dark god.

“Not like you to not be aware of your surroundings, Inej,” he commented. “Worried about tomorrow?”

“No,” she said. And she wasn’t. While it was one of the most dangerous jobs they had ever undertaken, Inej had faith they would make it through. “Just looking at the stars. We never get to see them at home.”

Inej wondered if he would ask her what she was thinking about. She wondered if she would tell him if he asked. He didn’t. 

“Too much light in the city. You only really see them if you get out of town. Not that there’s anything else outside Vegas.” 

_Are we really going to sit here and talk about light pollution?_ She wanted to scream at how inane their interactions had become.

“Another reason to hate the city. I like the stars,” was all she said. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

Before he could say anything, Inej slipped down the parapet and the two floors to her window. Dissatisfaction curled in her stomach, just like it always did when they had these mindless conversations. Nothing of meaning was ever said. She wasn’t sure it would ever be.

\---

While the front desk woman had lied about how close the motel was to the train station, she hadn’t been wrong about the prison. 

“Visiting my cousin, ma’am. Got himself in a bad spot, you see, but we’re hoping to bring a little light to him with our visit.”

Inej hadn’t known Kaz could smile like that. Bumbling and sweet, he all but wrung his hat in his hands with uneasy sincerity. His usual cane had been swapped for something rougher and less conspicuous. The gloves stayed on. It was hard to look at him like this. Part of her wished the easy smile he wore was real. A larger, more logical part reminded Inej that this boy wouldn’t have pulled her out of the House of Exotics. Dirtyhands was the reason she was alive today. 

They left the hotel in the afternoon. Jesper disappeared earlier in the day to find them a vehicle to make their escape. He had been instructed to find something that didn’t look like it had just rolled in from Fremont. Inej wasn’t holding her breath. The flash and glitz came to Jesper like breathing. If he showed up in anything less than a neon green stretched Cadillac, she would be surprised. 

“It is entirely too hard to get a decent cup of tea in Nevada,” Nina declared from her perch. The group was clustered around a little table in a cafe down the road from the capitol building. Books on the government and economy had been spread across the surface to give the impression they were nothing more than students. 

Inej nodded in agreement. “This hasn’t been steeped long enough, nor is the water anywhere close to hot.” The two girls shared a tentative smile. Though their experiences in Russia were far from similar, the silent acknowledgement of their shared homeland was sometimes enough to stave off the aching homesickness. 

“Quit carping about your drinks and pay attention,” Kaz griped. “If all you’re going to do is whine about the tea, you should have ordered coffee.”

“Kaz’s right,” mumbled Wylan. “This _is_ a coffeehouse.” Nina kicked out a little boot to connect with his shin.

“Suck up.” 

The vein in Kaz’s forehead looked ready to pop. Inej could see the tantrum he was on the verge of throwing. She cleared her throat to stave off the eruption of an irritable Dirtyhands. “Why are we sitting in a coffeehouse again?” she asked. 

“Not for the drinks,” Nina muttered. Inej shot her a exasperated look. 

“For the view,” said Kaz. The three others stared at him like he had finally gone round the bend. There was absolutely nothing in Carson City worth looking at. It was a dusthole filled with tired buildings and even more worn down people. He sighed, a put-upon sound that seemed to say, _why have I been cursed with these morons?_ Kaz gestured with his cup outside of the window that sat adjacent to their table. 

A flat-faced bus screeched to an agonizingly slow halt in the parking lot. Clustered by the entrance was a ragged group of people. Each handed a postcard-sized slip of paper to the driver and found a seat. The gang watched for several minutes before Wylan blew out a breath in understanding

“They’re the cleaners,” he murmured. “That’s where we’ll board to get to the prison.”

“Finally,” said Kaz with a small, dark laugh. “I was wondering if I had brought the wrong crew after all.”

Inej glared at him. “Some of us are tired and under-caffeinated. You didn’t have to listen to Nina snoring all night.”

“Good lord, all you people do is complain,” Kaz retorted. “Let’s go over the timeline for tonight. Wylan, since you are the one who picked up on it so quickly, when are we boarding that bus and what happens after?”

The redheaded boy looked surprised to be addressed. Inej had the thought that if Kaz doled out any more compliments to him, Wylan might perish in elation. 

“Nine tonight,” he began. “We’re to change first at the bar next door and collect our passes from you. We’ll split up when lining up so it isn’t obvious we’re together. When we reach the prison, we’ll be patted down and given our assignments.”

A nod from Kaz set Wylan’s cheeks aflame. “After you all get your assignments—” 

“And just where will you be, Brekker? While we’re off scrubbing toilets or mopping up whatever filth that place has accumulated, you’ll be doing what exactly?” demanded Nina. 

The penetrating glare her outburst garnered would have sent most running for the hills, but not Nina Zenik. She steadfastly held his stare and raised an eyebrow at his silence. Nina’s resilience and boldness was one of the things that had warmed Inej to her so quickly. She wasn’t afraid of anything, especially not Kaz Brekker. As she once put it, after training under Zoya Nazyalensky, this desert dweller was hardly anything to tremble before.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over me, Nina dear,” replied Kaz. “Inej, what’s your next move?” 

“Meet you in the storeroom of cell block 6. Then we retrieve Helvar and get out before anyone notices,” she said. “This seems…”

“Outrageous?” asked Nina. 

“Harebrained?” suggested Wylan. 

“No.” Inej shook her head. “This seems too easy.” 

Kaz pushed the rest of his coffee over to her and stood. “The simplest of plans are often the most effective, Wraith.” 

Inej couldn’t come up with a response to his logic. She downed the last of his coffee and nodded her acceptance. She would follow where he went. While she didn’t like the plan, Inej Ghafa would follow Kaz Brekker into what was certainly going to be a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to: moonlightmasquerade for helping me dig myself out of a hole of writer's block; allthepizza who's little "keep going" badgered me into continuing; and WowieWhat for the nice words. 
> 
> Guesses on the next POV? Next chapter should be up in a week or so. Uni got in the way of this one for a bit.


	6. Nina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mea cupla on the long absence, folks. Hopefully this monster of a chapter makes up for it!

She was not, as Kaz and Jesper liked to tease, a delicate princess. While the base of the Second Army was named the Little Palace, hardly anything about Nina’s life in Russia had been luxurious. That did not mean that she was content to wear itchy clothing that most certainly hadn’t ever seen soap nor water.

“Are the filthy clothes really necessary?” she had asked when Kaz instructed them to get changed.

“Apologies that you have to suffer with the common people, Your Majesty.” The bastard had the audacity to give a deep bow.

Nina threw the bread roll she had been munching on at his head before turning to join Inej. One day, Kaz Brekker would annoy her past the point of no return. She was still deciding how she wanted to rid the world of Dirtyhands.

As the bus approached the prison, nervous tension seeped into her mind. Matthias was within her reach. Dull grey brick buildings sprawled low behind an imposing wall of iron and stone. For all of the medieval architecture that still existed in Russia, Nina hadn’t expected a fortress like this here in America. The bus rumbled to a pause at the gate and the driver conferred with one of the two guards stationed there. It lasted only a second, but Nina held her breath as they signalled for the gates to be unlocked. The screech of the iron opening caused several of the other passengers to flinch. Nina bit down on the impulse to seek out Inej’s eyes as the bus moved into the courtyard. They were in.

The bus disembarked on the east side of the complex. Nina took the opportunity to examine the other passengers. Not all of them were cleaners. Of the thirty or so people, ten looked to be cooks of some sort, based on their aprons. Understandably, the wardens probably didn’t want to allow the prisoners access to knives. The group was instructed to line up again and present their papers to a guard before entering the building. Kaz and Wylan were shuffled off to the opposite side of the girls. Nina strained her ears to hear where they were destined to go. The kitchens were to be blessed with the presence of the boys. She shuddered to think of the terror the pair of them could cause there.

Inej slipped in behind Nina and gave her a reassuring glance under the grime on her face. Wylan had suggested the girls attempt to look unkempt. The guards and the prisoners were bound to be a bit rough and there was no need to catch their eye with a pretty face. Inej’s eyes had darkened at his words and she’d dragged Nina off to smear dirt on themselves. Nina wasn’t sure her hair would ever recover from the ratting the other girl had inflicted on it.

The guard scrutinized Nina’s papers when she reached the front. She clasped her hands in front of her and kept her eyes downward. Zoya’s oft repeated chastisement of _You are too...boisterous_ echoed through her mind. 

“Eleanor Parker?” he barked. “New?”

“Yes, sir.”

He gave her one more hard look before thrusting her papers back and checking something off of his clipboard.

“Visitor’s room, cellblock five. See Mr. Murphy regardin’ supplies and an escort.”

It was as close as Nina could get to Matthias’ block without actually being in it. She kept the conflicting relief and terror off of her face as she entered the building. The escort was worrying and potentially problematic. She would have to either lose the tail or knock him out before meeting the others. Nina paused to tie her boot just inside the door. She listened to the man giving Inej her assignment.

“Same as Miss Parker: visitor’s room, cellblock five,” the guard grunted. “Got a visitin’ day tomorrow and the governor’s set to tour. Need it spick and span.”

_Interesting_ , Nina thought as the Wraith appeared at her side. Would the guards inside be more vigilant? Or would they be distracted by the governor’s impending visit? There were too many variables they hadn’t accounted for. The plan felt ready to fall apart at the seams before they had ever even seen the inside of a prison block. Nina glanced at Inej, but the usual detachment of the Wraith gave nothing away.

Tension creeped into Nina’s fingers like a winding vine. The inside of the receiving room seemed made of the same dull brick of the outside. Spartan benches lined the walls, though no one was seated. Nina and Inej had been near the end of the line. A stout man glared up at the girls as they approached. She could only assume this goblin was Mr. Murphy.

“Visitor’s room, cellblock five?” Nina asked hesitantly. _Careful, don’t want to overdo the shrinking violet act._

The gremlin barked a series of commands in Spanish at the people standing behind him. Though Nina had learned Spanish a lifetime ago at the Little Palace, she could barely understand him. She caught “towels”, “vinegar”, and “Cunningham” before a hardened old woman thrust a grey bundle into her arms. Inej almost pitched over when a vat of vinegar the size of a large toddler was similarly shoved at her. Nina was also expected to carry a mop and bucket. She just managed to keep an acidic remark from leaving her mouth.

Cunningham was apparently a weedy guard built similarly to the mop in Nina’s hands. His tangle of messy red curls looked nothing the the bronze halo Wylan wore. Where the second-best demolitions expert on Fremont looked cherubic, Cunningham appeared unwashed. His personality left something to be desired as well. The guard gestured lethargically for the girls to follow him down a dank hallway.

The transition from paper map to physical maze was jarring. Signs announcing what lay behind various doors kept Nina from getting herself fully lost. It seemed to take ages for the trio to reach the heart of cellblock five.

_“They look like pies of some sort,” remarked Nina over the blueprints of the cellblocks._

_“Are sweets all you think of?” asked Wylan. She shot him a glare, daring him to continue with that train of thought._

_Each block was a circular unit no more than two stories high. The cells ran in a loop bordering the visitor’s room, galley, and guard command post. A singular exit hall cut through the perimeter of cells into the guard post. The setup allowed for no dark corners for hiding and no easy route out. Inej traced her finger along the plan of cellblock four._

_“Forty cells in each block, two men to a cell,” she murmured. “It looks like we may run in circles a bit.”_

\---

The visitor’s room was not as dirty as Nina feared. Dust accumulated in the corners and the drinking fountain had a strange brown smear. Vinegar, a wet rag, and a mop would have it visitor friendly in under an hour. Cunningham took a chair at one of the tables and unceremoniously rested his head on his folded arms. Nina plunged his heart rate to a sleeping level. Quick and easy. Two things Nina usually wasn’t.

“We have to clean up a little so no one gets suspicious,” Inej announced.

“Typical that the women have to clean up while Wylan and Kaz are off doing Saints know what in the kitchens,” mumbled Nina as she picked up the mop bucket. Inej chose to ignore her.

They sped through their haphazard cleaning of the room. Neither of their minds were focused too much on scrubbing when they may have to fight against something a lot more fierce than dust bunnies. There was always the chance that the job could go wrong. It had happened before. The crew bore the scars to prove it. Nina couldn’t look at Wylan without seeing the mark left behind by the bullet he took for her. She cursed at him in five different languages for trying to be a hero. _Stupid boy with his stupid goodness._ Some nights Nina still dreamed of his blood on her hands as she healed the wound at his neck.

This was the most dangerous job they had taken yet. The stakes were far higher than lifting a painting or shaking down a mid-level boss who got a little too big for his britches. This was screwing with the government. _If we get caught, will they bother with a trial or just throw us in a cell?_ Nina wasn’t sure even Zoya Nazyalensky herself could pull her out of this if she got in over her head. Not that Russia knew she was alive. They probably thought she was dead outside of Wrocław somewhere. Put to the pyre by the Germans. Just another Grisha lost to those monsters. Monsters like Matthias.

_“Still not trusting me,_ Hexenjäger _?”_

_“You’re a_ Hexe _, no matter how pretty you talk.”_

_“So you think I’m pretty?”_

His voice in her head hurt like a physical ache, but it was a bullet wound rather than a migraine. The pain of it never fully went away. Nina wasn’t sure how she was going to handle hearing and seeing the source of it again. All the Healers in the world couldn’t heal the bleeding she was expecting.

Inej broke the silence first.

“It’s done, I think. How long will he stay out?” She gestured with a tired rag at the uniformed mop.

Nina debated for a moment. “Long enough, hopefully. Assuming no one comes by looking for us.”

That seemed to satisfy the other girl and they took off to meet the boys. Even though the prison was inundated with cleaners, cooks, and guards, their path to the storeroom was unobstructed. _Inej was right; this feels too easy._ The silence was making Nina jumpy. Every cough and shuffle of the prisoners surrounding them made her flinch. Luckily, all the doors for the cells were made of solid steel. A thin slot, too low to the ground for anyone to see them properly, was the only window to the outside world. Nina fought to keep herself from imagining Matthias in such a sterile setting. _Nevermind that he’s been here for so long already._

Wylan was waiting for them in the cramped storeroom. At first, Nina thought something had gone terribly wrong based on the red covering his face, until he began wiping at it exasperatedly. Garlic and tomato hung in the air.

“Pasta sauce?” Inej asked. Pink bloomed under the vibrant staining.

“I was told I have a hard time following recipes,” was all the explanation he would give.

The girls worked to rid Wylan of the substance, though how _exactly_ he had gotten tomato behind his ear Nina would never know. Kaz’s abrupt appearance put an end to, what he called, their “incessant pecking” at the kid. From the back of the closet, Inej pulled out a box containing costumes.

“ _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_?” Nina asked skeptically.

“Very impressive, Zenik.”

“Make me wear an ass’ head and find out what happens, Brekker.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow in the dark light. “Of course not. You’ll be Titania. Helvar will be Nick Bottom.”

“It’s like watching Mom and Dad fight,” Wylan whispered to Inej below Nina’s indignant huff. She grabbed the gown and mask out of the other girl’s hands and retreated to the corner to change.

When she turned back around, her friends were dressed in the ridiculously frilly Shakespearean getups. Wylan bore the wig and bellows of Francis Flute. Nina was unsure if she had ever seen the Wraith in an actual dress, much less the voluminous gown she now wore, complete with Hippolyta’s thick girdle. The mound of fabric dwarfed Inej. The sight was almost as funny as Kaz wearing what appeared to be a full tree and the horns of Puck. Nina bit back a laugh as he adjusted his leaves with gloved hands.

“Don’t go giggling too much,” he snarled. “You’re the one who’ll be wearing actual fairy wings.”

After the damned wings were secure, masks were set, and the tangles and grime Inej had so thoroughly inflicted were gone, the group set out from the storeroom.

“Why exactly are we dressed like this?” Wylan asked hesitantly.

“We’re going to a party, kid. Keep up.”

Inej shot Kaz a look. “It was a valid question. You picked this crew for smarts. If you wanted someone who wasn’t going to question you, there were other options.”

“I’m replacing you all with less chatty substitutes. Can it or consider yourselves fired,” he muttered.

It was going to be a long night.

\---

_It_ is _a party_ , Nina thought dumbly. Horror filled her at how these people could mingle and drink surrounded by this much carnage. _And they call me the monster._

In what they had thought during planning was an unused gymnasium, masked revelers spun in a dance around a circular pit. Each guest was elegantly dressed in fancy costumes. The crew’s Shakespearean getups blended in seamlessly with the shining masquerade. _It looks like a dance of the_ vile _or the_ rusalki _. It’s like we’ve wandered into a gruesome fairy realm._ Down below, prisoners beat each other bloody and broken. Above, attendees danced and snacked on _hors d'oeuvres_. Never had Nina seen such blatant disparity between those that have everything and those that have nothing. Not even Russia in the fiercest of winters could be this cruel. Men in suits sporting Dime Lions tattoos snaked through the crowds gathering bets.

“I’ve got two to one on Helvar breaking both of Schmidt’s arms!” called one runner.

It was only Wylan’s steadying hand on her elbow that kept Nina from flinching. Thank the Saints her mask covered the majority of her face, because there was no controlling her anger and disgust. She rounded on Kaz to demand an explanation and found nothing but air. Typical. Disappeared before she could get her hands on him.

“Did you know?” she asked Inej. Her pause nearly pushed Nina over the edge, but the Wraith shook her head.

“I knew there was something terrible going on, but not what it was.”

The trio moved to gather a drink from the bar. Nina resisted downing hers immediately. She would need her wits about her if they were going to make it out of here. Kaz didn’t recruit her for her pretty face. They gathered at a table overlooking the pit. While the rest of the prison was made of clean, sterile lines of steel and concrete, the amphitheater seemed carved out of sandstone. Nina dully remembered the quarry Wylan had mentioned when they went over the maps. The room was large and lit with flaming wall torches. It led to a feeling of primitive grandeur. Inej whispered guesses as to who the other occupants were in Nina’s ear. Politicians, merchants, mobsters, Hollywood magnates. The powerful and the wealthy had come to see the lowest of the low battle it out.

“The prisoners volunteer,” continued the Wraith. Her hearing missed nothing and she had apparently gathered quite a lot of information on their way from the bar to the table. “They receive private cells, clean blankets, better food. More ‘luxurious’ treatment than the rest of the population.”

Below, the loser of the current fight was dragged back to the door of the arena. The victor postured and raised his hands as the onlookers cheered. The blood left behind on the sand turned Nina’s stomach. She steeled herself. _You are a soldier in the Second Army. A bit of blood shouldn’t make you faint like a schoolgirl._ Kaz lowered himself into the empty chair next to her and held out a cigarette case. She took it, curious, as he knew she didn’t smoke. On the inside, across from a row of cigarettes, was a note. _He fights next. We’ll leave after the round following his._ To keep the charade, Nina pulled one of the sticks and leaned in to the flame he offered. Now she was nauseous physically and emotionally.

The announcer stepped into the pit once it was clear. The crowd quieted to hear him speak.

“And for our next tournament, we’ll have _ein sehr interessanter Kampf_! Two strapping German men will duke it out for this lovely prize!” He gestured to a cart near the lip of the ring. Covered dishes were revealed by more Dime Lions, displaying an assortment of food. Their table’s distance didn’t allow Nina to see what exactly they were. The revellers applauded, awaiting carnage eagerly.

“Bring in…Matthias Helvar!”

_That’s not him_ , Nina thought wildly. She was wrong.

The _Hexenjäger_ was gone. The boy she had traversed Poland with was gone. Never had she seen his blue eyes so flat and dead. Not even when he had held a gun to her head. This was a changeling, a barbarian. The savage she had once accused him of being. And it was all her fault.

_Look, Nina. This is what you did to him. Look at the scars on his arms and chest. See the way they shaved his head? This is his reward for trusting you._

Matthias was impossibly larger. As one of the Grisha hunters he had been trained in combat and had the stature to prove it. The muscles now cording his shoulders seemed almost double in size. Sun-kissed skin from days on the training grounds was traded for a sickly pale that rivaled Kaz’s. Standing on the bloodied sand and glaring at the crowd, he finally looked like the monsters Nina had always believed the _Hexenjäger_ to be.

A second man emerged from the doorway. Given the announcer’s earlier comments and the height of the prisoner, he was another German. Nina knew this battle would wound Matthias. Countrymen were considered sacred back in Germany. The deep nationalism that ran through the people would make attacking this Schmidt that much harder for him. Nina grabbed at Kaz’s foliage covered arm.

“We have to do something!” she whispered. “We can’t let this fight go on. What if something goes wrong?”

Matthias picked up a length of chain thrown into the pit. Schmidt grabbed a rusted pipe.

“Release me, Zenik,” Kaz growled. She let go. “Helvar will have to get out of this mess himself. He’s of no use to me if he can’t win a little tussle.”

The fight began ruthlessly. Schmidt lunged with the pipe at Matthias’ head. He ducked and rolled out of reach. Below the jeering and shouts from the crowd, the pair appeared to be speaking. Matthias pleaded with the other man, but received a swipe to the jaw for his efforts. The blow knocked him back. As soon as his hands hit the dirt, the look on Matthias’ face warped. Cold, detached calm spread across his features. He was on his feet in seconds. A leaping pounce had Schmidt pinned under him, the pipe long gone.

In Matthias’ hands, the length of chain became a horrific weapon. Schmidt’s upper body was squeezed as if a python wrapped around it. His arms were pinned to his sides, no doubt a force of habit from Matthias’ training with the _Hexenjäger_. Gruesome snaps cut through the screaming of the pinned man and the shouting of the crowd. It seemed the Dime Lions’ prediction was well made. From Nina’s perch she could see tears join the sweat beading down Matthias’ face as he moved the chain up and around Schmidt’s neck. The _crack_ of his spine signaled the fight was over. The crowd heckled and booed in apparent frustration.

“Why are they so upset?” Nina asked, aghast. “He just killed a man.”

Inej’s mouth thinned to a line. “They wanted a longer fight.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here,’” said Wylan. He looked green around the edges from the violence. How he had lasted so long on Fremont was a wonder to Nina.

“Not my favorite play, but it’ll do,” Kaz drawled.

Nina tuned out their banter and turned to the arena. Matthias was led off stage by one of the scampering Dime Lions. The cart rolled past her table, allowing Nina a glance at the food. Badly imitated German fare. The pretzels were limp. The schnitzel looked poorly breaded and soggy. Even the beer was too pale.

_A wretched trade for a life_ , Nina thought. The next competitors were brought out and she forced herself to watch the fight.

\---

“If you poke me one more time with that cane, Brekker, I am going to push my way into that monstrosity you call a brain and–” Nina stopped short as Inej clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her to a halt.

“Shh!” she hissed. “Listen.”

Shuffling sounds and a tinkling of keys echoed from down the circular hall. Nina strained her ears to hear more over the ambient sounds caused by so many men living on top of each other. A voice sliced through clear, like shattered glass on a still night.

“Can it, Helvar. Keep your trap shut and we all get out scot free.”

Inej glanced around before spotting a target. Above them was a vent. Nina tried to decipher the quick, silent conversation Inej and Kaz had, but it was over before she understood. Kaz’s gloved fingers wove into a basket to boost the small girl up. Luckily they were all out of their ridiculous frippery and back in regular clothing. Saints, they had some luck; the vent opened without a sound. Inej was in the vent in the blink of an eye. Wylan reached to swing the vent door closed before Kaz beckoned him and Nina back into the office.

_How does she_ do _that?_ Nina thought as Inej dropped from the vent in the guard’s office moments later. She hadn’t even heard her crawling around not two feet above them.

“A couple, one man one woman. The woman is trying to heal Helvar while the man keeps guard. No one I’ve ever seen before, but the woman looks like trouble,” Inej reported under her breath.

“Trouble? Another gang?” Wylan asked.

“There’s a tattoo of some kind of blade on her arm,” Inej admitted. “But I’ve never seen it before. Almost like a star. Definitely not one of the Vegas gangs.”

“Nevermind that,” Kaz said abruptly. Inej looked at him, curious. Whatever the other girl saw, Nina couldn’t detect. “Anything about their motives? Who sent them?”

Inej shook her head. “Nothing. Though, they’re definitely not on the right side of the law.”

“Nina,” Kaz barked. “Go around the other side. Take Inej. Wylan and I will engage and you two will come in as soon as their attention is on us.”

The girls took off around the loop immediately. Inej’s feet made no sound and Nina struggled to make herself as invisible as the Wraith. She failed, but the sounds of the inmates shuffling in their sleep and snoring covered her footfalls. When they were just out of sight of the two strangers, Inej gestured for her to stop in the darkened hall. The smaller girl pulled out one of her knives– _where on Earth did that come from?_ –and Nina lifted her hands.

“The man is closest to us. I’ll get a blade on him and you cut off the woman’s air,” breathed Inej into her ear. She had to stretch _en pointe_ to reach.

“Bit rude to come in and steal the one we’re taking?” Nina heard Kaz drawl. “Takes a lot of moxie.”

Nina rounded the corner and got the woman in her sights. One clenched fist brought the her to her knees, clutching her throat. Inej danced like the ghost she was named for and held the knife to the man’s throat. He went down just as easily as the woman. Kaz and Wylan came around the corner and stood in front of the interlopers. The man’s head jutted back from Inej’s grasp on his hair, allowing Dirtyhands to look him dead in the eye. Kaz blanched. The man smiled bright and licked his bottom lip.

“Now now,” he said. His voice cut like the sharpest edges of Kaz’s cruelest snarl. Inej’s eyes focused on Kaz’s face as she tightened her hold. The other girl’s anxiety made Nina focus even more intently on the woman struggling to breathe at her feet. The cane Kaz held fell from a gloved hand.

“Is that any way to greet your brother?”


	7. Kaz

_Liar. Liar. Liar liar liar li--_

The word repeated in Kaz’s head like a siren. This skiv couldn’t be Jordie. His brother was dead. Long dead. Lost to the pathetic currents of the cesspool Lake Mead. _I watched him die. I watched the waves take his body away. Liar. Liar. Liar._

The Wraith pulled the man’s head back by his hair. And the other shoe dropped. 

_“Careful, my loves!” shouted his mother from her place on the picnic blanket. Kaz and Jordie ran on, heedless of her warnings._

_Lake Tahoe was beautiful. A near endless sea encircled by stretching, snow-capped mountains. While the water was too cold to comfortably swim in, the beaches were a paradise. The Rietveld family took their summer vacations in a cabin once owned by the boys’ grandmother. To children aged five and nine, Lake Tahoe was as far away from life on the dusty farm as the moon._

_Kaz sprinted as fast as he could, determined to finally beat his big brother in something. They went on neck-in-neck, until Jordie’s perpetually untied shoes got in the way. He tumbled down to the bottom of the hill. It wasn’t until he reached the bottom that Kaz realized something was wrong with his brother. The green grass was now a vibrant red and Jordie wouldn’t stop screaming._

_It took ten stitches to close the skin under his brother’s jaw. When Jordie threw his head back and laughed, the gleaming scar was all anyone could see._

“Brekker, we’ve got to go,” said Nina. “There’s no telling who could come by and we’re already late.”

Dimly, he was aware that if Zenik was acting as the voice of logic with her giant German present sitting a few feet from them, they were in trouble. He could only focus on the line of scar tissue directly above the Wraith’s blade. Helvar was speaking, rapid and annoyed, but Kaz wasn’t listening. 

“Kaz,” murmured Inej. Her voice broke him out of his reverie. 

“Nina, take Helvar shut eye. And the woman.” Dull thuds told him she had complied. “Wylan, grab that cart we saw in the office and the costumes we left in there.” 

“And me, brother dear?” asked the man. Kaz couldn’t think of him as Jordie. Not Jordie. _Liar liar liar._

“Bind his hands and check him for weapons, Wraith.” 

He used the opportunity to pick his cane back up and stash it inside the vent above them. It wasn’t his cane, just a basic walking stick. His hands itched for the Fabrikator-made weapon he considered an extension of his arm. Two more people complicated the plan. Kaz hoped Jesper had secured a large enough vehicle. They were coming with them. A man trying to steal _his_ prisoner and pretending to be _his_ brother? That sounded like an enemy, and the old adage did advise to keep them close. It took Nina, Wylan, and Kaz to shove Helvar into the undercarriage of the cart. The large man had to be rolled into the fetal position to fit. Zenik tossed a sheet on top of the entire thing, covering him from sight.

“You’re coming with us,” Kaz informed the imposter. _Liar._ A dim voice whispered in his mind that it took one to know one. “You will follow our lead and not make a nuisance or I will have the lovely Nina pull your brain out of your skull through your nose. Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal.” He was smiling Dirtyhands’ own smirk back at him, and Kaz wanted to bash the man’s teeth in for it. 

The costume pieces were handed out randomly. There was no time for changing or order. All that mattered was not looking like the criminals they were. The foliage-covered shirt Kaz had used covered the man’s bound hands. With Nina and Inej posing as cleaners again, the unknown woman was woken up and shoved into the gown the Wraith had worn. Kaz peeled off the dirty coat and trousers he had donned as a cleaner, revealing a guard’s uniform.

“You do like your symbols of authority, don’t you, Brekker?” Nina snorted. The pale companion of the imposter opened her mouth to speak, but Kaz held up a hand.

“Make her drowsy, Zenik. I don’t want her causing trouble,” he said. “Split up and meet at the loading dock on the outskirts of cellblock two. Nina, Inej, and Helvar go through cellblock three. The rest of us will cut back through the Hellshow.” 

“No mourners,” began Wylan.

“No funerals,” finished the rest of the Dregs present. 

Kaz gestured for Wylan to lead. The strangers walked between them. He kept one hand on the gun in his coat pocket. All it would take was for one of them to mouth the words “help me” to a legitimate guard or one of the Dime Lions prowling the Hellshow. Something told Kaz that wouldn’t happen. They wanted to be with them. This was too much to be written off as mere coincidence. Someone posing as _his_ brother trying to break out _his_ prisoner on the same night he was. Kaz didn’t have the same faith Inej did in some higher power. This was orchestrated by men for a reason. And it would be such a shame to miss the show. 

The quartet moved unmolested back towards the room that housed the Hellshow. Kaz glanced at his watch. If all went as planned, they would be back on the train within the hour. The big bang should be happening just… about… now.

A scream ripped through the air. Not the cheers and calls of the crowd watching the fights, but the kind of sound one makes in abject terror. Shouts of “fire!” and sirens began in earnest. It appeared the coin Kaz had used in collecting Inferni was well spent. While the sandstone of the Hellshow was resistant to fire, the rest of the prison contained a startling amount of wood. A couple of scattered Grisha firemakers was enough to make the place go up like an abandoned barn. 

Wylan jumped and began to glance about fearfully. Neither of the two strangers between them demonstrated any surprise. _Of course they were expecting something. It seems I’ve lived up to my reputation_ , thought Kaz. He put on his best authoritative face and barked for them to hurry up. Two more halls and a cut through the amphitheater and they were home free. This close to one of the sources of the fire, people ran screaming past them. Kaz nodded at the guards they saw and gestured at the trio, as if he were escorting them to safety. If the Inferni had done it right, there were three separate fires: one in the kitchen, one in cellblock four, and one in cellblock two. The loading dock would be clear of people, as anyone thinking of using that as an exit would find themselves blocked by the blaze. Unless they had positioned a Grisha specifically there to guide them through it. 

The Hellshow was nearly empty of the crowd it had once held. A few stragglers were accosting passing guards and Dime Lions for information on what exactly was going on. A woman dressed in black approached Kaz with a scowl on her face. The intensity of her gaze was highlighted by the severe braids restraining her hair. Without the aggrieved and snarky attitude, she may have been considered pretty. Until she opened her mouth. 

“I demand you assist me in getting out of this place.” 

“My evacuation unit is already at capacity,” he said and pointed across the room. “That guard at the doorway will help you.” 

Their little group was down the hall before she could sputter out a response. Kaz’s knee was screaming in protest at the quick clip the group accelerated to, but there was nothing for it. Two more corners, Kaz told himself. By morning, he'd be sitting in his chair with his cane in one hand and brandy in the other. Assuming they made it out of this night with their skins on. 

\---

“For Saints’ sake, it took you long enough!” Nina threw her hands in the air as they came into view. 

“Miss me that much, Zenik?” The familiar quips and barbs of their interactions soothed a tension Kaz hadn’t realized he was carrying. 

“Like a rash I hoped had finally faded.” 

Inej moved between the pair and held up a hand. “Enough. Let’s get out of here.” 

The Inferni appeared from behind a door with a pinched look on her face. Appropriate, Kaz thought, as Sophia had only been paid for starting fires. He murmured to her to see him at the Crow Club when she was back in town for a raise. Satisfied, the petite woman began to pull them one-by-one through the flames. Wylan’s face betrayed the terror of someone not used to the Grisha firemakers. Inej seemed apprehensive until the woman gave a slight smile. Only Nina was calm walking into the raging flames. Kaz waited until everyone, including their _guests_ , was gone. 

Sophia held out her hand with the same turn of the lips she had given Inej. “Your turn.” 

Kaz didn’t want to, but there was no other safe way out of the prison. He had set the game pieces up this way and played himself. Mentally bracing against the discomfort, Kaz rolled the sleeve of his borrowed uniform up and extended his arm. Her hand was scalding in direct contrast to the cool caress of the inferno. He yanked his arm back, but Sophia wouldn’t let go. The nausea rose up to greet him and Kaz resisted clutching his stomach. 

Despite the heat of her touch, Kaz was in the icy water once more. 

Hands gripped at his neck as the brackish lake water filled his lungs. Jordie’s dark, glassy eyes stared accusingly. _You left me, brother. You left me to drown._ The bodies in the lake surged up from the bottom to tug at his ankles. 

Sophia released him without warning. Kaz opened his eyes to see that they had made their way through the flames. Inej’s brow creased in worry, but he could offer no words to soothe her. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep his meager dinner from reappearing. 

“Finally,” Nina exclaimed. “I was beginning to think you’d decided to take the throne of Hell.” 

“You think I haven’t already done that?” Kaz rolled his sleeve back down. “Let’s move.”

Slipping out of the loading dock was nothing, as he had assumed it would be. The guards were so concerned with keeping the inmates in their cells that they couldn’t concern themselves with roaming party-goers. Down the steps and around the corner lay a twitchy sharpshooter with a gift for grand theft auto. The cart holding Helvar clanked noisily as Wylan and Nina pushed it on. 

A school bus awaited the crew. Though it was small, it would accommodate their crew plus their unexpected guests. Kaz huffed a dark laugh at Jesper’s theft and waved everyone on. He took a moment to ensure Jesper had followed his instructions to the letter. By some miracle, he had done as asked; all of the lights on the vehicle were broken. He snagged the driver’s seat as his sharpshooter moved to help Wylan load the unconscious Helvar onboard. Once everyone had made it inside, Kaz yanked the door shut from the inside and gunned the engine. No lights or waving arms beckoned from the prison as they drove away. No screeching vehicles swerved around to cut off their path. No one was following or attempting to stop them. 

“Saints, we might actually get away with this,” murmured Nina. Kaz took one hand off the steering wheel to gesture at her. In the rear view mirror, he could see that both of their unknown passengers had joined Helvar in Dreamland. 

“By the way, who are these people?” Jesper asked. 

He didn’t want to relive it, nor did he even want to think about it. Inej took over filling Jesper in when Kaz didn’t bother to respond. 

There were three routes out of the prison area. One was for official use, such as the transporting of prisoners and the passage of visitors. Another was discreet enough for the travel of officials and those not wanting to mix with the lower class. The last route was the one Kaz aimed the bus in the direction of. It was only there if you looked hard enough and could see the intermingling paths beaten down by years of horse-drawn carriages. To the casual observer, the light imprints on the ground were nothing more than run off marks from rain. In reality, it was a network of roads.

Kaz pulled out of the complex when he found the path he was looking for. In the dark of the desert, no one would spot their movement. A sliver of moon creeped over the mountain line, but it wouldn’t reflect enough of a glow to give them away. 

“Are you sure this is the best idea, Kaz?” asked Inej. “You can’t see anything out here.” 

“That’s the point. Now can it and let me drive.” 

Her pursed lips indicated she wasn’t happy with the attitude, but the Wraith remained blessedly silent. 

Kaz used the drive to get himself back under control. He felt like an exposed nerve or maybe one of Wylan’s bombs. The man in the back of the bus called himself his brother and it made him want to beat someone unconscious. All of the blood, sweat, and pain Kaz had endured could mean nothing at all if what this bastard claimed was true. Kaz knew Dirtyhands had saved his life more than once. The persona was as carefully crafted as the cane he was known for: ruthless, unforgiving, and vicious. He needed to find that again now. The cool cruelty and well-earned arrogance was a protective mask. Kaz just wasn’t sure who it was shielding more: himself from everything or his crew from his rage. 

No one opened their mouth in his direction before they reached the road. Getting any of them to keep quiet felt like a minor miracle. Frankly, Kaz was surprised Nina managed 20 minutes of silence. 

“Are we there yet?” she sing-songed. _All good things must come to an end._

“Obviously not.” 

Something small and wrapped in paper flew over his shoulder and onto the dashboard. Kaz shifted his eyes to the offending projectile. _Why is it not surprising that she smuggled sweets into a prison?_ He popped the candy in his mouth and aimed them towards the train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, as always, in the debt of Colubrina and Moonlightmasquerade. Their cheerleading and gentle "what are you doing"s kept me from setting my laptop on fire.


End file.
